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dreamcubed · 2 years

Text

more than a woman | oliver wood x reader

song; more than a woman [bee gees] pairing; oliver wood x fem!ravenclaw!reader genre; fluff, s2l word count; 5,1k timeline; chamber of secrets warnings; swearing, mentions of anxiety summary; y/n was one of many who fancied the obsessive quidditch boy, and to her surprise, she was of interest to him as well

a/n; you know it really doesn't make sense to me that the quidditch teams in hogwarts were limited to the number of players you could have on the pitch at a time: why no spares? what if someone can't make a match? so anyway imagine that no one has been kicked off the team for the sake of this oneshot, and chloe is just another member of the team

also i don't follow canon a bit at the end

masterlist

parts: || one | two ||

"more than a woman to me."

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You knew him as the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team: everyone knew him as that. You also knew that you weren't the only one whose heart fluttered whenever you caught sight of him, as he was a common crush among yours and his years, him being a year older than you. Nonetheless, you didn't really mind, as a crush on Oliver Wood made school much more interesting, and due to his obsession with quidditch, it seemed unlikely he would date and therefore there was no one to be jealous of.

One person you were jealous of, though, was your friend Chloe, as she shared a house with him and also played for his quidditch team. You were well aware she had no interest in the boy, and actually found him rather irritating, but you envied the fact she had more opportunities to talk to him. She didn't know you fancied Wood, as you were afraid she would make fun of you, so you surely hoped that she didn't think it suspicious that you made an extra effort to hang out with her whenever Wood was in the vicinity.

Like, for example, one breezy autumn morning when you headed over to the Gryffindor table to ask Chloe if she had done the transfiguration homework, upon seeing that Wood was sat opposite her. You - of course - knew that she would have done the homework: this was Chloe you were talking about. Nonetheless, it was a chance to be near Wood.

She was engaged in conversation with him when you arrived, just to your luck.

Chloe's eyes lit up when you reached her, saying, "In fact, Y/N's just the person to talk to."

"About what?"

"Your grandmother was a famous quidditch player, wasn't she? Grace Landen?"

"...Yes...?"

"Landen is your grandmother?" Wood's eyes widened as he looked upon you, "And you're just now telling me this?"

"I didn't know it was of interest to you." A blatant lie: you knew he would be interested in the fact you were the descendant of a famous quidditch player.

"Of course it's of interest to me, lass."

Lass. You liked that.

"Seriously. She was one of the best keepers to ever play. I look up to her."

You nodded, "She's an impressive woman."

"Do you know her training regime? Her old schedules? Her old diet?"

"No... but I can owl her if you want." This was finally a chance for you to get to know him.

"I don't want to bother you, lass."

"Really, it's fine. I should owl her more anyway."

The grin that stretched across his face caused butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you."

You beamed at him.

***

The second you received a reply from your grandmother, you ran to find Wood, as he wasn't at breakfast. You asked the Weasley twins where he was, who replied that he was most likely already down at the quidditch pitch doing some solo training. They said he often came for breakfast and left before most people were even awake. You made a mental note of that for future mornings.

The walk down to the pitch was already a long one, but it felt even longer with the excited anticipation bubbling inside of you. You eventually reached the large field stadium, which you had always assumed was vacant at this time of day, but was clearly occupied by the Gryffindor quidditch captain defending the hoops from an apparently charmed quaffle.

You waved up to him, and he quickly noticed you and flew down. Before he greeted you, he took out his wand to de-charm the quaffle, and then turned to you with a grin.

"What can I do for you, lass?"

Reaching into your cloak, you pulled out the piece of folded parchment paper that had been dropped off to you that very morning, and presented it to him.

"Seriously?" his eyes lit up, and the next thing you knew you were engulfed in a hug. Upon letting go, he said, "I know you said you would, but I didn't think you actually would."

You shrugged, "Why would I lie?" Your cheeks were still on fire from the embrace.

"Ah, I don't know," he said, "Are you sure there isn't anything private in here?"

"No, Rowena, no. I was just making light conversation with her, nothing serious."

You watched as he unfolded the paper and began reading through it. "Godric, this is a lot. Not much on diet, though."

"She always said it was unhealthy to fixate too much on food, and that you should just try to eat a lot of protein before practices and matches."

"I guess that's true," he folded up the paper, "D'you mind if I keep this?"

You shook your head, "I have no need for it."

"Thanks, lass," he tucked it into his pocket, before turning back to the pitch, "Have you inherited any of her talent?"

"Uh, I don't think so, maybe? I've never really played."

"How are you the granddaughter of a quidditch legend and never played quidditch?"

You shrugged.

"C'mon, let's play one-on-one with just the quaffle."

"I don't know how helpful playing against me would be."

"Who said anything about help? C'mon, let's have fun," he grinned, making you weak in the knees.

"Okay," you agreed, dreading fucking up in front of him.

"Have you got a broom?"

You shook your head.

"Ah, well, we can't have you using the school ones. That's not a fair game," he pondered for a moment, "Tell you what, you can use my old one. My dad got me a new broom for my birthday a few months ago, but my old one is still perfectly fine." He moved over to the broom shed by the changing rooms. "At least, it's nowhere near as bad as the school ones," he added.

"You sure?"

"Of course, but this broom means a lot to me - I played my first match here on it - so be careful."

That made you nervous.

He sensed your apprehension and laughed lightly, "Don't worry too much, lass, it's not like we're playing with bludgers."

That reminder did calm you down a bit, but you were still full of anxiety as you took off your robe and tie - grateful you opted for trousers that day - and climbed on to the broom. One of your biggest fears was looking like a total fucking idiot in front of your long time crush.

Wood could still clearly tell that you had your worries. He shouted across to you. "We'll ease into it at first, okay? Trust me, once you're in the rhythm of the game you'll be fine."

You nodded at him, keeping an eye on the quaffle locked underneath his right arm as you prepared for him to throw it up into the air.

At first, you fumbled a lot and lost a few points to Wood, but once your confidence on the broom grew and you began to be more comfortable with only using one hand, you managed to catch Wood off guard and get the quaffle through a hoop. You turned around on the broom with your face lit up happily; your hands in the air as you cheered for yourself. Wood cheered for you as well, despite being the opposition.

"That wasn't half bad, L/N. With a bit of training you'd be a mean chaser."

Never had a compliment ignited such warmth into your heart.

It also gave you a bit more courage than before, and you found yourself chasing Wood a bit more eagerly, and trying harder to stop him scoring. When you successfully blocked him from scoring for the first time, catching the ball in your hand, you were too consumed with joy to remember that it meant you were supposed to then fly to the other end of the pitch in an attempt to score a goal.

Wood knocked your broom to get you to drop the ball, diving down quickly to catch it, at which point you were so full of adrenaline that your instincts kicked. You hit the quaffle with the end of your broom when he tried to score again, sending it halfway down the pitch as you immediately chased after it. You then caught the quaffle, and were in the final stretch to the other hoops to score when you felt Wood's presence beside you.

Your determination was fuelled further: you ducked down to fly underneath him, in an attempt to throw him off, and then circled him again before throwing the quaffle directly at the centre hoop. It went through, and at that point you were even more thrilled than you had been at all the previous quidditch achievements you had made in the last hour.

In a dance of triumph, despite the fact that you were definitely losing the game, you rolled your broom over in the air, unable to wipe the grin off your face.

Wood simply stopped and stared at you, grinning just as wide - if not wider - than you were.

"See how fun quidditch is, lass?"

You nodded, your cheeks warmed both from the quidditch and the intensity of his gaze upon you.

"And this is just with the quaffle and two players. Imagine how much more fun it gets when you have two full teams and all four balls."

You grimaced, "I don't like the sound of playing whilst bludgers are flying around."

"Well, that's what the beaters are for."

"Yeah, but you have the Weasley twins on your side. If I played for my house, I wouldn't have the same sort of prodigy-level protection. In fact, those prodigies would be against me."

Wood gave you an expression that read "fair point" before looking up at the castle to see students begin moving in and out of the doors.

"Shit," you muttered, "I'm gonna be late for potions. Snape is gonna do my head in."

You began flying down, back to the side of the pitch. Wood remained hovering in the air, in the same location as you had just been.

"This was fun, Wood!" you yelled up at him, waving your arm in goodbye.

He waved back at you, "Come play again anytime, lass!"

You gave him a thumbs up, before grabbing your robe and tie and beginning a sprint back up to the castle.

It wasn't even eleven o'clock yet and you were probably going to lose house points for the first time ever over tardiness, but you could still safely say you had never had such a good day.

***

You continued to owl back and forth with your grandmother for the next week, and it was almost a week after you had played quidditch with Wood (and spoken to him last, for that matter), when you received a gift from her. It was her old Ravenclaw quidditch shirt from when she used to play at school, kept in surprisingly good condition.

Immediately, you looked around the hall in search of Wood, and spotted him sat near the Weasley twins on the Gryffindor table. It was a rare morning that he had decided to not go for early morning solo practice. You roughly wrapped the shirt back up in its packaging before heading over to where he was: summoning every last bit of courage within yourself to do so. His face lit up when he spotted you in his peripheral, which made you feel fuzziness inside of you.

Sitting sideways on the bench by his side, you presented the parcel to him, "Look what my nan sent me."

He picked up the shirt to observe it properly, "Shit, lass, I really am jealous that you're related to her."

"Calm down, Wood, all you gotta do is marry L/N and then Landen's your in-law," either Fred or George piped in, you couldn't tell which.

"Aye, true," was all Wood said in response, which opened up an unreasonable amount of hope within you.

As you looked across at Chloe, who was sat opposite you, you realised she could see your flustered state. It looked like the cat was far out of the bag by the smile she gave you, paired with the mischievous look in her eyes. She pointed at Wood with her eyes, widening her grin.

You glared at her: a silent warning to keep her mouth shut.

While you exchanged a wordless conversation with Chloe, Wood had been talking with the twins about some of your grandmother's most famous moments, and it was clear how much he adored quidditch by the way he spoke.

"Godric, L/N, please take this man to see your nan soon, maybe then he'll actually shut up about quidditch for once," one of the twins said.

You gave him a pointed stare, "I think that would make him talk more if anything."

"Even better then, follow through with the marriage plan so he bothers you instead of us," the other twin spoke as they both stood up to leave.

"I don't talk about quidditch that much," Wood said.

"You do," Chloe stood up, "Now if you could forgive me for borrowing Mrs Wood, we have study group in the library to get to."

Ignoring what she referred to you as, you picked up your shirt and said goodbye to Wood, before following Chloe to the library. You prepared yourself as best you could for the bombardment of questions that were inevitably about to follow.

***

The next day it was a Saturday, and you decided to brave your luck and get up early to see if you could catch Wood going out for a morning solo practice. You knew the Gryffindor team didn't have scheduled practice until later that morning, but you also knew what Wood was like.

Sure enough, you walked into the Great Hall to see Wood eating by himself at one end of the Gryffindor table. The only other students awake were a few other Ravenclaws and Hermione Granger, who were all likely up for some early morning studying. Wood noticed you as you entered the hall, and waved you over to him.

"Come for a re-match, lass?" he tilted his head with a smirk, making you grin.

"If you're up for it, Wood."

"With you? Always," he beamed, "Now, eat up. Your nan said you've gotta get your protein before practice, after all."

You sat opposite him and began tucking into bacon and hash browns, readying yourself for a long morning of practice for a sport you didn't even play.

The two of you played for a good couple hours before the rest of the Gryffindor team arrived for practice, at which point you reluctantly flew to the ground. Wood had let you use his old broom again, and you had opted to wear your grandmother's old quidditch shirt to fit the theme.

You hopped off the broom near the rest of the team, and greeted them with a smile, "Morning, everyone."

You heard a chorus of, "Morning, L/N," in response. Apart from a distinct, "So this is where you got to," from Chloe.

"Sorry, did I keep L/N from you, Smith?" Wood asked, landing down next to you.

"No, not at all, I just didn't expect to not see her at breakfast this morning."

"I told you she'd be down here," one of the twins, who you hazarded a guess at being Fred, said.

"I mean, your exact words were 'she's probably with her husband', not specifying the quidditch pitch."

"It's Wood, that's basically the same thing."

"Alright, enough chit-chat," Wood said, "On your brooms, everyone, start off with a simple game of catch to get you warmed up."

He turned to you as the rest of the Gryffindor team took off into the air.

"I'll see you later, lass," he said, "This has been spectacular."

You couldn't help but smile bashfully in response, "Couldn't agree more, Wood, I'll see you around."

As you began walking off the pitch, he yelled after you. "Just call me Oliver!" And before you could form a reply, he had taken off from the ground along with the rest of his team.

Yeah, you were in deep.

***

The days began to get colder as Christmas creeped closer to fruition: Hogsmeade trips, like usual, were becoming the highlight of students' lives. You were definitely one of those students, wandering the familiar streets of the cosy Winter village with Chloe.

Ever since she found out you fancied Oliver Wood, she had been teasing you relentlessly. Hogsmeade trips were no exception.

"Should we go in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Why? Hoping to bump into Wood there?"

You glared at Chloe, but had no comeback.

"He's here somewhere, you know," she added, "Your insane husband finally took a day off quidditch."

"He's not my husband."

"You wish he was."

You sent another glare in her direction.

"He hasn't corrected anyone who says it," she continued, "I think that's a pretty sure sign that he likes you back."

"You- you think so?"

"In what world is it not?"

You shrugged, "This world, maybe."

Chloe scoffed, "C'mon, let's get some butterbeers."

As the two of you entered the homely pub, your stomach flipped at the sight of Oliver sat at a table with a group of people, including people from his year and members of the Gryffindor quidditch team. His eyes met yours when he looked up at the sound of the over-door bell ringing, and your stomach flipped again when his lips stretched into a smile.

You graced him with a smile in return before Chloe dragged you over to their table and then promptly disappeared to order drinks.

"Oh, sorry," one of the twins apologised, making you frown at him until he stood up and said, "Move over, Georgie, let L/N sit next to her husband."

"No, Fred, you don't need to-" you began to say, but they had already moved along the booth bench and sat down again, meaning you looked like a dick if you didn't take the space they had made for you. This presented you with a whole new dilemma: shuffle between the table and twins to get to the space, or shuffle between the table and Lee Jordan and Oliver to get to the space.

With the pressure of sitting down growing, you took the side that was closest to you, which happened to involve Oliver. You got past Jordan with little to no uncomfortable physical contact, but the table was slanted in a way that meant there was less space between Oliver and the table than with Jordan.

"Sorry, lass," he said, gently brushing his hands against your hips to help guide you smoothly past him.

As you sat down, your thigh rubbed against his, which made heat rush to your cheekbones: you couldn't help but notice how everyone was staring at you, which made you very grateful for Chloe's return.

When she saw your seating position, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but evidently decided against it before grabbing a chair from another table to sit down. The group fell into individual conversations as you remembered something you had been meaning to tell Oliver.

"Oliver."

He hummed, turning his attention away from another conversation.

"My nan owled this morning - she said you can come over and meet her during the Christmas holiday."

Then you were encompassed in a tight hug: something that never failed to catch you off guard when from Oliver Wood.

"At this rate I'll actually have to marry you, lass."

Blood swarmed to your ears at the furthered prospect of marrying him, and to prevent an awkward silence you said, "I don't think we can legally get married."

"Yeah, not right now we can't."

You wished him saying that didn't spark the inkling of hope it did.

"Anyway, uh, if you do want to visit, I can owl you about it to arrange a time."

He beamed at you, "That would be great, thank you, lass."

"It's nothing, really."

It was far from nothing: these interactions meant the world to you.

***

Today was the day you had been long awaiting.

The day that Oliver Wood, Gryffindor quidditch captain and your long-time crush, would be coming over to your famous grandmother's. You were staying at hers for a couple of days specifically for the event, despite the fact he was unlikely to be there for more than a few hours. You just didn't want your grandmother to think you were only visiting her for him.

It was arranged that he would arrive via floo powder, and so you were anxiously sat on the sofa across from the fireplace. Your grandmother was in the kitchen making tea, and you were partially grateful she wasn't there to witness the state you were in.

In the corner of your eye, the fireplace lit up in green flames as a figure emerged from it. There Oliver was, grinning at you, while he wiped off the soot from his travel. You were quick to hand him a rag to aid with the cleaning up.

"My nan is just in the kitchen," you said, making him frown, which made you frown in return.

"Not even a hello?"

Your eyes widened, "Oh- sorry- I just- you're not really here for me though, are you?"

He stared at you expectantly.

"Hello, Oliver."

"Hello, lass, it's good to see you."

Your grandmother then entered the room, and nothing warmed your heart more than watching Oliver's eyes light up with pure excitement and adoration. He began gushing to the famous Grace Landen about his passion for quidditch as well as what an inspiration she had been to him. For some reason, you didn't feel awkward stood there in silence as you watched them, nor when you had all sat down with cups of tea on the go.

It was only when Oliver turned to look at you did you realise you had perhaps been staring for too long.

"You should see your granddaughter here, though. She's clearly inherited some of your talent - it's a shame she doesn't play."

Never had a compliment left you so flattered.

"You managed to get her up in the air?" your grandmother said, evidently shocked, "I've been trying to convince her for years, but she's always refused."

"Really? I swear I only asked like twice before she agreed."

"Well, that's probably because she likes you a lot - Merlin knows she doesn't shut up about you."

You must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Oliver turned to look at you again.

"Excuse me, I have to-" you stood up, raking your mind for a reason to leave, "-use the toilet."

You didn't just hear the silence- you felt it as you hurried out the room.

Rowena knows it took you a long time to bring yourself back to a composed state: in fact, you ideally needed longer but you couldn't 'use the toilet' for a suspicious amount of time. So, you worked up the courage to return, and just as you reached the doorway to the living room, you overheard them talking.

"She is a smart young woman."

"To be honest, she's more than a woman to me."

That was when your grandmother caught sight of you, smiling at you as you were forced to re-enter the room. Despite her evident friendliness, the atmosphere was awkward as you sat down next to Oliver again.

Your grandmother sensed this, and broke the silence by saying, "I have lamb in the oven if you would like to stay for dinner - we'd love to have you."

Oliver smiled, "If it's no bother to you."

***

You didn't see him again over the Christmas holidays, and you were definitely mad about that. At this point, as you dared to hope, Oliver had basically confirmed that he at least enjoyed your company. "More than a woman to me." That sounded like a love confession, if you were truly honest, but you didn't want to set yourself up for too much disappointment.

Currently, your problem was that Chloe had stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, meaning you didn't know where to sit on the train. It felt too selfish to take up a cabin by yourself: not that that was an option, as everywhere seemed to be occupied by at least a couple people. As you progressed up the train, you caught sight of Oliver sat in a cabin with a few members of the quidditch team: it was of no surprise to you that he had already called them together for a meeting. He really did too much sometimes.

You could hear the Weasley twins especially grumbling as Oliver spoke, making you roll your eyes as you entered the cabin. "Rowena, Oliver, can't you wait a few minutes before forcing a quidditch meeting?"

"This is importa-"

"How many of you are here against your will?"

The Weasley twins immediately rose their hands, and everyone else slowly followed, giving shameful glances towards Oliver.

"Okay, you're all free to go," you said, gesturing towards the open door. Everyone began shuffling out, muttering their thanks towards you while Oliver stared at you in disbelief.

"You don't have the power to do that."

"Clearly, I do."

He frowned at you.

"Right, see you at schoo-"

"Where are you going?"

"Well- I- I don't know. Elsewhere?"

"Why? Smith isn't on the train."

"I mean I know but I- you-"

"Sit down, lass."

***

It wasn't long before the next quidditch match - in fact, a matter of a couple of weeks. Those weeks were long enough for it to be established that people still referred to you and Oliver as married, and also long enough for you to realise you were possibly in love with him. You had never imagined you would get close enough to him for the feelings to progress past a crush.

The match was Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which basically meant everyone versus Slytherin, so you were glad you had to deal with no inner conflict about who to cheer for (as even if it was Ravenclaw playing, part of you would have wanted to cheer for Oliver).

You were stood in the stands along with a mix of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, keeping your eyes glued on Oliver by the hoops. He was an amazing keeper: something you had expressed to your grandmother repeatedly.

As he saved another goal, you let cheers leave your mouth, lost in the sound of the people around you. For a brief moment, it appeared as if he looked in your direction with the biggest grin on his face, but you were just a face in the crowd so he could have been looking at anyone. To be honest, you weren't sure why you dismissed yourself like that, since you were at the very least close friends.

Hopefully more.

The match progressed as rain began to fall from the sky, but no one was budging from the stands or the pitch. You didn't even bother to cast an umbrella charm as you kept your eyes glued to the man that held your heart. To most people, he was far from the highlight of the match, but to you, he was the only thing you could focus on. Harry Potter was where other people's eyes rested: it appeared he was in the race for the golden snitch.

You finally parted your eyes from Oliver to watch Potter chase down the snitch with Malfoy close on his tail. Malfoy wasn't a bad seeker, sure, but he could never compete with Potter's natural talent.

To be honest, you don't think you've ever been more ecstatic for a quidditch game victory - not even for your own house. Everyone except the Slytherins appeared to match your energy, however, as the audience erupted in roars of praise and excitement. Harry Potter held the golden snitch up proudly in the air with his team members circling him.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" Lee Jordan yelled into his wand.

The second the teams had disappeared off the pitch you pushed through the crowd to run down to where the changing rooms were. The Gryffindor team weren't yet in the changing rooms, as they were still cheering and congratulating each other outside, meaning you didn't have to wait to see Oliver. He caught sight of you almost immediately, and his face stretched into an even wider smile as he began moving towards you.

It must have been the adrenaline that fuelled your actions, because you would have never done it normally, but you ran towards him and found yourself jumping into his arms. He quickly caught you, and you pushed away the scent of sweat as he span you around.

As he stilled from spinning you, you looked down at his face to see him looking up at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes - the same adoration he displayed when talking about quidditch. Those same eyes flicked towards your lips, making anticipation bubble inside of you as you looked at his. Then you mustered up even more courage inside of you and moved your hands from his neck to his head before kissing him in a rushed manner. He reciprocated your actions, even when one of the Weasley twins hollered, "Get a fucking room!"

You felt a hand move from its grip on your thigh, and parted from the kiss to see him flipping off the rest of his team. All at once, the adrenaline and courage left you at the sight of the team's eyes on you, which made you drop entirely from Oliver's hold and partially hide yourself behind him.

He merely laughed at you, before ordering his team to get changed which gave you a brief moment alone.

"You reek of sweat, Wood."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Wait for me?"

You nodded, and he pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

"See you in ten, lass."

————————————

parts: || one | two ||

masterlist

written; 16/06/2022 —> 04/07/2022 published; 05/07/2022 edited; —/—/——

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #harry potter #harry potter fics #harry potter oneshots #hp fics #hp oneshot #harry potter oneshot #hp oneshots #ravenclaw reader #quidditch

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weasley-wizard-writes · 1 year

Text

For The Best

Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: Angst

Content Warnings:

Angst

Death

Grief

Mentions of children and pregnancy

Word Count: 1,310

If Fred had survived, what would be different today?

You asked yourself this question often, especially at night when you found yourself lying wide awake in bed, your husband asleep beside you with his arm thrown across your waist.

It felt wrong to think about your late fiance while existing in the space so close to the man who had worked so hard to help you heal your heart after Fred’s death, but even still you couldn’t help but do it from time to time.

Fred Weasley had been the light of your life for six years before he’d died suddenly during the war, and never once before his passing had you even considered what your life might have looked like without him.

Back then, you hadn’t known that your friend since childhood, Oliver Wood, had harbored a crush on you since grade school, and beyond that, you definitely hadn’t known that you could feel similarly for him too.

You hadn’t known that it would take you three years to move on enough to even consider a possible first date, nor that said first date would be with the man mentioned above, who had patiently waited, never overstepping or pushing you in any way, in case you decided to give him a chance.

You hadn’t known that you would in fact give Oliver that chance, and that just two years after your very first date, you would have a new fiance, one that played for Puddlemere United and took you with him to every game he could, calling you his good luck charm.

You hadn’t known that your wedding wouldn’t have any physical trace of your very first love, but rather the consistent mentioning of his name as you and Oliver shared your vows, with many eyes in the crowd clouding up with tears as you both acknowledged and thanked the man for everything he had done, going as far as to wish that he were there on that day.

You hadn’t known that, at nearly twenty seven years old, there would be no small children milling about your home in the wee hours of the morning, despite Fred having made you promise to get to work on having a whole quidditch team together once the war was over.

But above all else, you most certainly hadn’t known how terribly you could miss someone until after Fred was ripped away from you, and how horrendously it could hurt to love another, even if you knew it was what he would have wanted.

You had no idea how hard it would be to love two men at once, all while knowing that if only you could know how things would have been with Fred, you might never have been able to love two men at all. You were just a few small facts away from knowing whether or not you would be willing to give all of this up just for a shred of a life with your first love, and that made you feel like a monster.

But you didn’t know.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, he would have married you the next week, as he’d decided to do just moments before his untimely death.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, your wedding would have been beautiful, and that his physical presence would have made your heart all but burst from your chest the moment that you saw him.

You didn’t know that the guilt you had felt on your real wedding day would never have swelled to the surface, because you never would have loved another, and you never would have questioned even for a moment if what you were doing was right.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, Oliver Wood would have come to your wedding, and there he would have met the woman he would have married if only you had not needed him at your side. You also didn’t know that he would have had three kids with her by now, because to be a father had been his greatest dream since childhood. He had never told you that, because he knew how much the discussion hurt.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, he would have slept with his head on your shoulder and one arm above and one arm below you in a permanent hug. You also didn’t know that he would have kissed you all over your face to wake you up in the mornings, adoring the laughter that flew past your lips as he did so.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, the joke shop would have been even more successful than it was today, and that the two of you would have lived together above it with George up until your very first positive pregnancy test, which would have come just under a year after your wedding day.

The two of you would have been trying on and off for the entire time after the war, and Fred would have cried when you told him, before asking permission to tell his twin so he could share his joy with another.

You didn’t know that if Fred Weasley had survived, you really would have had an entire quidditch team worth of children, and that he would have adored every single one of them, thanking you nearly every day for blessing him with such a beautiful family.

You didn’t know that your children would have been born in this order with these names, and that opposite of your mother in law, you would have had nearly all girls, and that Fred would have been so beyond proud of that fact.

You would have had your first daughter, Ivy Ginevra Weasley in late January of 2000.

You would have had your second and third daughters, Maisie Molly Weasley and Nellie Edith Weasley on Halloween in 2002.

Your fourth daughter, Winifred Marigold Weasley would have been born in late November of 2003.

You would have had your fifth daughter, Darcy Fleur Weasley in mid July of 2005.

Your sixth and final daughter, Louisa Maple Weasley, would have been born in early December of 2008.

And your one and only son, Sawyer Oliver Weasley, would have been born on Valentines day of 2010, his middle name coming from your very best friend, who would have used your name as the middle name of his very first daughter just two months prior.

But you didn’t know any of that.

All that you knew now was that Fred Weasley was gone, and that you loved your husband about as much as you could love anyone after your heart had been so thoroughly shattered.

But you also didn’t know what the future would hold either,

You didn’t know that Oliver would forever hold back from discussing his life long dream of becoming a father with you, for fear of how you might react to the idea of having children with him.

You didn’t know that despite that, your first child, three years from now, would be born, and that you would see Fred in her soft brown eyes whenever she smiled up at you.

You didn’t know how hard you would try to see her father in those eyes instead, or how guilty you would feel over the fact that even after so long, Fred was all that you wanted.

But the good news was that you would never know how different today would be if Fred had survived, and because of that, you would also never have to deal with the guilt associated with the fact that you would have given up everything to live that life with Fred Weasley, for even just a second.

You didn’t know, no matter how much you pondered the question at night.

And that was for the best.

MASTERLIST

Ko-fi

#Fred Weasley x reader #Fred weasley x reader angst #Fred Weasley fanfics #Fred Weasley angst #Fred Weasley #Oliver Wood x reader #Oliver Wood #Oliver Wood x Reader angst #Oliver Wood angst #Harry Potter x Reader #Harry potter x reader angst #Harry potter x reader fanfiction #Harry Potter x reader fics #Harry Potter angst #HP angst #HP fics

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ashesandhackles · 5 months

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For @hprecfest Day 1: A favorite fic under 5k words

A wilder beast from West than all were by eldritcher

Mature. Rufus Scrimgeour/Andromeda Black Tonks

This fic has me in a chokehold and I will take every opportunity to rec it. Myth of Andromeda breakdown, social commentary and everything else in this restrained, beautiful prose.

Summary:

Scrimgeour investigates the myth of Andromeda.

2. The Snow Child by @saintsenara

Merope Gaunt/ Tom Riddle Snr.

My first introduction to Asenora was this fantastic (and vastly underrated among her work) folklore horror!

Summary:

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wished for a child with hair as black as a raven's wing, and skin as white as snow, and eyes as red as blood.

3. Runaway Boys by Delphi

Delightfully surreal and strange fic of Snape experiencing his puberty, with characters from Peter Pan.

Summary:

Severus dreams of pirates, and Lily closes the nursery window.

4. Entracte by @shes-a-gryffindor

Sirius' visit to Godric Hollow the night Lily and James died - the prose is so masterful with building tension, and how it seamlessly moves from Sirius' anxiety, to shock to grief and to rage.

Summary:

Sirius Black visits Godric's Hollow for the last time.

#hp rec fest #andromeda tonks #rufus scrimgeour #severus snape #merope gaunt #tom riddle #tom riddle snr #sirius black #fic recs #hp fics

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kiichikonoes · 5 months

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winter is when i go into a fanfic coma

#all the old fandoms #all the nostalgia #marauders #hp fics #hogsmede visits are a must #voltron #yuri on ice #yugioh zexal #adding gojos past into the mix #ohshc #fandom #fanfic

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saiilorstars · 11 months

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☼ Fandom: Harry Potter ☼ Pairing: Fred x OFC ☼ Summary: In which Fred Weasley is a simp for his wife. ☼ Arlet’s Masterlist ☼ Taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @foxesandmagic If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Fred was completely, and overwhelmingly, lucky. He knew he was. He knew from the moment that Arlet said 'yes' to being his girlfriend. She was gorgeous, had the prettiest sparkly blue eyes and the plumpest cheeks he'd ever seen. She had bangs when they met in Hogwarts, giving her an extra touch of cuteness.

Arlet arrived with her younger sister to Hogwarts in '93 and because of her late birthday, she was to start as a 5th year with her sister. She was intelligent, very intelligent. She showed everyone when Snape asked her to list the ingredients of a potion they weren't supposed to prepare until the following week. There weren't many students who could say they had bested Severus Snape (not that Arlet would ever boast about that).

Now, Arlet was shy, but her sister Aracely was the stark opposite. Aracely was an avid quidditch fan and because she tried out for the Gryffindor team, Arlet's path inevitably crossed with Fred's. He had the perfect opportunity to get to know her.

It was still a laugh between them and the rest of their friends and family that Arlet had struggled to tell Fred apart from his twin. She made the mistake many times in the beginning. But ultimately, she got the hang of their differences and then suddenly, things had changed. She sought him out and he sought her out. They gravitated towards each other no matter what. It was an unnatural ache to be away from each other. So, the only solution was to...become boyfriend and girlfriend.

And two months into their relationship, Fred was absolutely in love with her. The type of love that made it hard to breathe when she was around yet simultaneously making him feel like he was walking on clouds. It sounded ridiculous — that's what his brother told him countless times — but Fred insisted that it was an actual feeling. And as soon as it became possible after the war, he asked her to marry him. She didn't think twice about it, much less about the date. Less than a year after their engagement, they were married. And now years later, when things were more than established, there were still things that Fred was coming to find out about his wife. Every day, actually.

Arlet was known for being proper and graceful and just about everything that Fred knew he was not. But he knew a secret that nobody else knew...

"You're a right ole troublemaker like myself," he would tell Arlet in the privacy of their own room. Because every once in a while, when they were alone, she would pull a harmless little joke on him.

Fred suspected that she was getting tips and advice from George.

Arlet giggled each time her joke came to fruit. One time, she left Fred's hair stark blonde.

"Not that I don't appreciate the color, but I really don't fancy the idea about looking remotely like Malfoy," Fred told Arlet very calmly as he admired himself and his blonde strands in the mirror.

Arlet had laughed for hours that night. But in the morning, proper Arlet had returned and helped him get rid of the color and so nobody knew a thing. Nobody knew that Arlet Weasley liked dipping her toes into the prankster life too.

The closest anyone would come to finding that it was when they happened to vacation with their friends and family and on occasion her jokes would last through the morning. What drove things home was Arlet warning Fred that nobody would believe him if he said that she pranked him.

She was a little bit of an evil mastermind. Fred said it many times. He loved it. Spiced things up every once in a while.

He especially liked the adrenaline when they were traveling. Arlet's mother was from Mexico and with that came a lot of vacationing spots in the area. They visited a lot of ranches, countrysides and beaches. Arlet would take advantage of his lack of spanish and trick him into trying the spiciest things ever, or getting him into the stupidest performances when they were in hotels.

Now, Fred loved going to the beach and it wasn't just because he would get to see his darling wife in bikinis or he would get to turn her pranks into his own show. No. He loved the salty smell of the air and the passing vendors with sweet coconuts and fresh fruit and the passing muggle trinkets that always caught his eye. He loved doing all of that with his wife.

And Arlet loved it all too. She loved that her husband loved it all and shared it with her.

They started making it an annual trip, whether it was on their own or with friends and family.

When Arlet wasn't planning on secret, totally evil, pranks against Fred, they would watch the sunset on the beach. They could do anything else in the day but at sunset, they would come back to the beach, sit on the sand, and watch the orangey-red sky as the sun went down the horizon.

"You know, one day, I say we should renew our vows here," Fred said to her one year as they sat on the sand together.

Arlet's laugh was like a sweet melody to him. "Even if I make your life miserable? I have plans to turn your hair purple next week, you know."

"Funny, I had plans to turn yours a bright rainbow next week too," Fred remarked. "We'll see who gets who first but in the meantime, I was very serious."

Arlet still laughed. "You would come all this way to get married again? You're—" But she had stopped when she glanced at him and saw him holding out a ring box to her. Her sparkly blue eyes went wide with shock. "Fred, you're not — you already gave me a ring. You do remember that, right?" She even raised her hand where her wedding band rested.

Fred chuckled. "I promise you that the firework fumes have not given me amnesia. Yet. But we can always do with an upgrade, right?" The shop was doing far better than it was when he first asked Arlet to marry him. He could afford a better ring for her. "So, Arlet Weasley, would you marry me…again?"

A soft smile spread across Arlet's face. "Anywhere, anytime. But it better be with you."

Fred smirked immediately. On the day of their wedding, just a few minutes before she was supposed to marry him, George met her with the rest of her bridesmaids pretending to be him. Arlet had not been amused with their switch-up trick at all. Molly Weasley smacked both of them that day.

"You think I would let my idiot brother marry the most gorgeous woman in the world? I think not. But it did make for a funny trick, right?"

Arlet shoved a hand against his chest. He laughed as he nearly slipped back but when Arlet lunged on him and kissed him, he had all the fuel he needed to laugh through the rest of the night.

The vow renewal announcement spread like wildfire amongst their friends and family. They chose to tell them in that same vacation spot, making it a whole party out on the beach. There were cheers and applause and all the good stuff that usually came with such news. There were plenty of 'why now?' too.

Arlet would put it all on Fred to answer since he was the one who came up with the idea. It was her attempt to make him take care of all the nosey people and free herself. But of course leave it to Fred Weasley to come out with the mushiest things to say when she was being such a bad wife.

"She makes me fall in love with her even more every single day."

"I learn new things about her and I'm a sucker all over again."

"It's like voodoo or something because I swear I wake up loving her and by night time, I love her twice as much."

Fred kept catching Arlet's eye from across the party, letting him know that she was hearing every single word of his. He would wink at her each time. When he was free, Arlet approached him with two tequila shots.

"You want to party with me, Mr. Weasley?" She offered him one of the shot glasses

"Oh, I don't know, my wife might get a little mad…" Fred said, taking the shot glass.

"Mmm…" Arlet hummed and leaned up on her toes, brushing her lips over his, "We can keep it a secret…"

It wasn't always that Arlet was that bold out in public. Fred suspected that it had something to do with the tequila in her hands. She loved tequila.

"Oh honey, you're going to be in big trouble tomorrow," he mused. He wrapped his free arm around her waist.

Arlet chuckled. "I'm not that drunk yet, Fred. Just happy, that's all."

"Oh, well in that case—" Fred drowned the tequila shot and shook his head. Arlet laughed louder. "Where's the next one?"

Arlet was happy to show him, after she drank her own shot. After that, it was a frenzy of celebrations and drinking. They danced together, shared kisses here and there, and the touches as if they were a newly engaged couple. It was true what Fred said. He always loved his wife twice as more by nighttime and tonight was no exception.

He remembered being so hyped up on tequila that even as they were leaving the beach and coming back to their hotel, they were still dancing. They danced in the lobby, Arlet a full giggly mess, and all the way up to their room.

Inside, they were a tangled mess of kisses and touches. Clothes were thrown every which way. There was a series of 'I love you's' exchanged between them, moans and names yelled out. But, as drunk as they had seemed to the others, the following morning they both remembered exactly what their night had looked like.

Arlet felt her husband's strong arms wrapped around her bare body under the sheets when she woke up. Soon, she felt his soft kisses on her neck.

"Buenos días," Fred whispered in her ear.

"Mm, nice Spanish," she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes just yet.

"Well, you made me speak in a whole new language last night," Fred remarked. He planted a kiss on her cheek.

Even though Arlet knew it was impossible, she felt her whole body heating up like it was summer. She opened her eyes and tilted her head up to meet Fred's eyes. "Hey…"

He smiled down at her. "Hi."

"We have to leave today, don't we?"

"Yes…" No sooner had Fred had answered than Arlet let out a groan. He laughed lightly. "Just remember, there's someone waiting for us back home."

With that reminder, Arlet did perk up. She was out of bed before him, and the first one to finish packing as well.

"LET'S GO!" She yelled at him excitedly when they left their room.

Fred laughed as she dragged him away. They had someone waiting for them, after all.

They couldn't possibly get to the Burrow any slower, at least that's how it felt to Arlet. Fred pointed out that they made great time on the sole fact they used the Floo network but alas, she was just too eager to see—

"Where is she?" Arlet's eyes swept over the Weasley's living room frantically. "Oh my goodness! What if they're not home? We told them we'd be back at—

They suddenly heard an excited babble coming from the kitchen and in a few seconds, the babbler herself had come wobbling into the living room — trying to run, it appeared — with two soggy cookies in her hand.

All the franticness washed from Arlet's face. Fred had started laughing when his mother came running in after the 2 year old girl yelling "'Cookies are for dessert, Siena! Give them back to grandma right now!"

Fred brought a hand over his chest. "Ah, it seems like it was just yesterday when I was doing the same thing."

Arlet threw him a look. "That's because you did that last week."

Fred grinned. "Oh, yeah! Siena!" He swept up the two year old into his arms and kissed her bright red hair. "Cookies are most definitely for breakfast!"

Molly reprimanded him on the spot. "Don't encourage her! She stole those cookies when I wasn't looking!"

"How terrible," Fred said with an overly seriousness. Of course he turned away from his mother with Siena in his arms and mumbled to her "That's my girl."

Molly welcomed them back and offered them to stay for lunch, although she warned Fred not to let Siena eat the cookies. She then headed back into the kitchen.

"How could I say no to you?" Fred tickled Siena's stomach, earning the giggles he loved hearing so much.

Siena Weasley was a spitting image of her father and that spelled future trouble…'for those who don't have a fun bone in their bodies' as stated by Fred himself. Arlet had yet to decide if she was worried as well.

"Oh, a troublemaker you'll beee…" Fred cooed at Siena. She had already offered him one of her cookies and then to her mother. "Hey Arly?"

Arlet had started gathering Siena's toys off the ground to alleviate some of the work for Molly. "Yeah?"

"I was just thinking…you're lucky I'm your baby's father."

Arlet paused, then shot her husband a deadpanning look. "Seriously?"

"Aha."

"And why is that?"

"Well, first of all, look at us," Fred turned so Arlet could see him and Siena together. "We're adorable."

Arlet shook her head. "You're something alright."

"And because you know that Siena will be anything but boring!"

At that, Arlet has to laugh. "That's what I'm afraid of, honestly." She walked over to the two, kissing Siena's forehead. "She's got your adventurous bug. My poor baby."

Siena leaned towards her mother and so Arlet took her into her arms. "Hi there, mi nena preciosa!" Siena responded to her mother with squeals. "Tan bonita y traviesa!"

Fred watched as Arlet continued to speak to their daughter in Spanish, a smile growing on his face. Words couldn't describe what he felt seeing his girls in their blissful bubble. He was so lucky, he knew it.

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rewritingcanon · 1 year

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i need a long sweet romione fic as a pick me up. if anyone has any recs please bro

#like i need them to be the central focus not a sidepair #angst is also appreciated deeply #i read a hinny one not to long ago but the entire time i couldnt stop thinking about romione 💀 help #romione #ron weasley #harry potter #hermione granger #hp #golden trio era #hp fic rec #hp fics #need!#rewriting

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k2padfoot · 2 years

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Here & Now

Draco x Y/n

Summary: For two years you’ve been alone with your son. Draco, unaware of his son, hasn’t seen you since Hogwarts but when he gets badly hurt at his new job the only healer who can help is you. Helping him meant risking your secret.

Warnings: Injuries, angsty, fluff.

You stepped onto the front porch of the large home, your eyes wondering around the familiar grounds. You took a deep breath before you turned the lock and when you entered it was all the same, like you never left.

It was clean, too clean for being empty for so long but leave it to your mother to cast some type of charm for keeping things spotless. You dropped your bags at the door stepping down into the main living space, all of the memories came flooding back to you as soon as your fingers touched the flashy red couch.

You suddenly snapped back to reality at the sound of a screaming child. Quickly you rushed over to the baby carrier and scooped up your son. “Shhhh. I know, I know baby. We’re gonna be fine.” you whispered, rocking him in your arms to stop his cries.

It wasn’t a surprise that your son was upset, so we’re you. He’s in a new place after two years, and so are you. Your grandmother who housed the two of you passed away a few days ago. It devastated you to lose her, after all she was the only family you had left since the war took your mother and father. Now here you are back in your childhood home that seemingly enough was waiting for you all along.

When your son finally settled down you carried him up the stairs to the master and placed him gently in a porcelain white crib. You took a deep breath as you admired your sleeping son. You felt guilty for putting him in this situation, with only a mother who can barley keep it together. A knock on your door startled you, no one should know your even here.. You set down the baby monitor, turned down the lights, and quietly snuck out of the room to head down the stairs.

Peaking through the window you could make out a familiar face, that of Ginny Weasley. Although you were slightly confused you opened the door anyway.

“Ginny?? What are you doing here? How did you find me?” you blurted out.

She giggled, “Slow down Y/n. I’m here because we need to talk. And i’m married to Harry Potter, remember? Yeah there isn’t anywhere you can hide from us.” Ginny said.

“Oh, I-I well come in then.” you said not so confidently.

Ginny followed you inside to the parlor, “Can I get you some tea?” you asked her, except you have no idea if you even have tea here.

She sat down on the dark green arm chair, “No, i’m alright.” She answered, thankfully for you. You sat down in the other chair across from her patiently waiting for whatever it is she has to say.

Ginny took a deep breath before speaking, “So I’m here because of Draco.” You we’re about to interrupt at the sound of his name but she continued. “And before you say anything, just hear me out.” She said and you just looked at her to continue.

“So, something happened a few days ago. He was badly hurt during a hunt for an escaped prisoner, and he needs healing-

Before she could finish you interrupted, “So he should go to St. Mungo’s I’m not help-

“Y/n. Would you let me finish?” Ginny said, interrupting you right back. You sighed and nodded at her.

“Like I was saying, he needs better healing. The healers at St. Mungo can’t do what you can Y/n, you and I both know that. He needs your skills to be fixed.”

You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to take care of him after all this time, “Is it really that bad?” you asked her.

She looked away for a split second before back at you, “Unfortunately yes. He was hit by multiple curses trying to shield the other aurors. It’s not looking great.” Ginny told you.

A part of you was worried about him, how couldn’t you be? You loved him for all of your time at Hogwarts, but he left. He left with them, them who ruined his future from the very start. And now he’s an auror? And a good one at that? All of this information made your brain hurt.

“Ginny I wouldn’t even know where to start. I haven’t been back to work since my grandmother passed and what would I do with Scorp?” You asked her. Your mind felt foggy, like you were in a haze.

“Y/n, you always do this, don’t work yourself up please. You don’t need to figure anything out right now, you’re going to be just fine. If you decide you want to go see him i’ll gladly watch little Scorp, just let me know love.” She said as she got up from her seat turning towards the doors.

You were silent, unable to form your words. “Y/n.” Ginny said, and your head shot up towards her.

She was standing in the doorway now, “I’ll leave you be now. Please keep in touch alright? I’ll see you later.” She said as she shut the door behind her leaving you with your unsettling thoughts.

You couldn’t not do anything, he’s the father of your child even if he knows it or not. As much as you dread seeing him again you know you have too, you’d never let him suffer.

You called Ginny the next day and dropped off your son shortly after. Now you were in front of St. Mungo’s, a place that shouldn’t make you nervous. You’ve been here a thousand times but a thousand more couldn’t prepare you for here and now.

When you walked in you were greeted with familiar faces, all happy to see you, but they all knew why you were really here. Slowly you walked to the critical care center and looked for room 7. Your feet stopped in front of his room where he was laying in a state of oblivion all battered and bruised. Your eyes started to water looking at him so badly wounded, this was never how you wanted to see Draco again.

The nurses had informed you he would most likely be unconscious for the next 10-12 hours due to excessive trauma to his body. You knew that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear, nobody really knows what the body can do when it’s unconscious.

Before going in you gathered all the supplies you needed. You sat down in the chair next to him taking in his appearance for a minute. You gently placed your hand on top of his, grazing your fingers along his own. Your eyes started to water again and you snapped out of it knowing you needed to get to work.

Pulling down the top of his gown revealed multiple lacerations to his chest, some just surface cuts and some decently deep. You held back your tears once again and began your divination. When you moved to his stomach you couldn’t help but let out a gasp, a substantial gash revealed itself. You understood now why the other healers had trouble, you weren’t even sure you could fix it. “My god Draco.. What the hell did you get yourself into?” you said under your breath.

It had been at least a few hours now that you’ve been brewing potions and going over every spell or remedy of yours that you could find. You did everything you could think of. Potions, charms, spells, all of it. It was up to him now really.

A few days have passed now since seeing Draco and this morning you heard the news from Ginny that he’s alright. You’re happy of course, but a part of you still feels that pain at the thought of him.

The fire was crackling behind you as you laid on the sofa with your son sound asleep on your chest. You were deep into a new sci-fi movie when you heard the chime of your doorbell. It’s quite late in the night and again no one really knows your here but you figured it might be Ginny again. Scorpius was still snoozing away so you softly placed him on the couch surrounded by pillows and proceeded to the door.

Opening it you were in disbelief to see Draco standing on your porch.

“Hi Y/n.” Draco said.

Numbness filled your veins and you couldn’t move or think, “Y/n..” He said your name again, this time in a questionable tone.

“I uh- Hi.. Um, are you alright? It’s kind of late to be ringing someone’s bell.”

“Oh, oh yeah my sincerest apologies for that. I just wanted to thank you in person… and I wanted to see you.” Draco said, again leaving you speechless.

After a short moment you replied, “Oh.. Well it’s alright, your welcome I mean.”

He looked uncomfortable as he continued to stand in your doorway, but you couldn’t exactly invite him in with your baby a few feet away. Inevitably thats when he woke, cries so loud neither of you would be able to ignore them.

Your eyes went wide at the sound, “I-I’m sorry I have t- just hold on.” you told him and he did just that.

Quickly you lifted Scorpius into your arms, bouncing and rocking him back and forth. “Shhh, you’re okay, i’m right here with you.” you whispered, continuing to soothe him with your soft words, not remembering the man in your doorway.

Draco was still, his eyes were locked on you and the blonde child in your arms. He was mesmerized by how much the small boy resembled the two of you, “Wow..” he accidentally said out loud.

Your eyes shot over to him, suddenly remembering he was there your heart sank. “Draco.. I- Why don’t you come in?” you said and he stood frozen for a moment before slowly walking in.

“You have a beautiful child.” he told you, now in front of the two of you his eyes not moving away from Scorpius. “What’s his name?” he asked.

“Scorpius.”

He smiled, it’s a name you knew he adored. “Scorpius.” he relayed, and immediately Scorpius’s head turned, his big eyes landing on Draco.

“Draco.. I think I need to tell you somethi-

“He’s mine isn’t he?” he interrupted, knowing exactly what you were going to say.

Your mouth dropped. You didn’t know how to explain yourself, how to explain why you never told him the truth. “I- Merlin I don’t even know where to start, I’m sorry. I really am.”

He was still focused on Scorpius, a light in his eyes you haven’t seen in years. “Don’t.” he waved his hand, “You don’t need to say that, I was the one who left. I can’t believe I missed all of this time with him, with you..” he said, a pain in his voice. You could see the hurt on his face and the tears beginning to blur his vision.

“Draco, do you want to hold him? I think he might like that.” Scorpius as well couldn’t take his eyes off of Draco, almost like he knew it was his father.

Draco smiled wide, wiping a stray tear away with his sleeve. “I’d be more than happy too.” he said as he reached out to take the boy from your hands.

As soon as Scorpius was in his arms it was like an instant connection, you could see the look in the both of their eyes as they met.

“He’s so perfect Y/n, I-I’m at a loss for words.” he told you.

“I understand, it’s okay.” you tried to tell him.

He started to sway with Scorpius in his arms and you could see your son start to relax into him. “No, no it’s not. I’m so sorry that I was such a coward, that I never came back for you, that I missed the birth of our son, I wasn’t there for you.. I just— I’m so incredibly sorry Y/n.”

The feeling in your chest was overwhelming you. You never admitted how much you really did miss him, and you never let yourself think of it much either. Now you have too and all kinds of emotions you ignored have resurfaced.

“Why don’t we sit?” you told him and he obliged. He followed you to the sofa and took a seat next to you. At this point the little blonde boy was again asleep but this time in his dad’s arms. His head was slipped into the crook of Draco’s neck, arms propped on top of Draco’s, and his legs secured in his dads hands. The mere image could melt your heart, you didn’t know how much you needed this little family until right now.

“You aren’t the one to be blamed here, you didn’t know. I had over two years to tell you and I didn’t. That was incredibly wrong of me because you deserved to know and to have the chance to be in his life, I thought I was doing the right thing but I wasn’t.” Now tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

Draco relaxed into the sofa, his hand softly rubbing his son’s back. “Y/n, it’s alright, really. I understand without you even having to say it. I hurt you when I left and I was a completely different person then. I was stupid, so very stupid but i’ve bettered myself. Or at least i’ve tried, I don’t speak to father anymore and i’ve done whatever I can to redeem myself for my past mistakes.. Yet my biggest mistake was leaving you and I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.” He said, his other hand reaching for yours which you accepted.

Your other hand reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek hovering there for a moment, as you went to retract it he stopped you.

“Don’t, please.” he whispered, leaning into your touch. “I’ve missed this.”

You smiled, “Me too.”

He looked back down at his son then back to you, “I don’t want to leave again. I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for the lost time and everything I can to make you both the happiest. I-I want to do this with you, if you let me.” He said.

“Yeah, yeah I think that would be a good idea.” You agreed, your eyes now locked on his sky blue ones. Slowly you both leaned in and when your lips met it was like they never left one another.

#slytherin #harry potter #hpedit #hp marauders #hp imagines #hp fics #dad draco #draco malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco fics #draco imagine #draco malfoy masterlist #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #hp fanfcition #draco one shot

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butterbeerblurbs · 2 years

Text

grow with me, grow with you (f.w.)

💌 : fred adores the things you adore... even if it means being a plant dad. (that it gets him excited to one day thinking he’ll hopefully be a father to your children) 📝 word count: 902 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 silly (but maybe sweet?) fluff / timeline is set after the war / reader isn’t necessarily written to be chinese but does have chinese traits/beliefs (bc i’m chinese lol) 💬: as a mother of four money plants... yes... 🌿

[main masterlist 🧡] / [drabbles masterlist 💛]

the sight fred’s granted with is one that he can’t quite wrap his head around (despite being somewhat fond of herbology, when things escape the realm of magic, it’s tricky). he wants to help but he feels like his way of helping is staying out of your way, watching as you put together two pots–wait those are bowls–of... “what’s that?”

he already feels his heart swooning at the way your eyes twinkle up to him as you hold them up. they’re a pair of orange bowls, both with plants sprouting from them. he remains seated by his office desk, resting his chin in his palm as you approach him to let him see what they are. he’s seen them before, around your shared home, your parents’ home, even a couple of your friends but he has never questioned them before. until now, when you place one bowl on george’s table, and the other onto his table, right next to a photo frame of fred’s favourite photograph of the both of you during summer break.

“this is a money plant.”

fred places his pen, raising his brow, “does it–(grow money?)”you quickly reach over the table and slap your hand over his mouth, “no, it doesn’t.”

he snorts against your palm, peeling it off his face so he can give you a tug so you would walk around the table. you comply, standing by his chair until he shifts back and pulls you to sit on his lap. as he hooks his chin on your shoulder, he watches as you lure the bowl closer so fred can have a look.

“so they just... grow in water?”

“yep,” you nod, hands circling the orange bowl.

he makes a sound. “won’t they drown?”

“well... they’re under a category of plants that can grow in water, which is different to the ones that grow in soil. but that doesn’t mean these can’t grow in soil, either.”

“...”

“have i lost you, freddie?”

he scoffs a laugh and buries his face to your neck, “it’s like herbology all over again...”

you nudge the bowl to the side, so that your hands are able to rub over his arms hooking you down. “it doesn’t matter, you just have to make sure you refill the water when it gets low and i’ll come by to clean it from time to time.”

he peeks up with pursued lips. “is there a reason why you have this specific plant in here?”

“well...” you hesitate for a moment, but with fred imploring you with his curious, wide eyes and the kind of aura that ensures you he’ll never judge you for anything, you cave in. “it’s a bit silly, but don’t laugh, okay?”

he uses a free hand to imitate zipping his lips.

“like the name, these money plants are believed to bring good luck for businesses and... you know, money. my parents believes in them and naturally, i do too. whether it does bring in money or not, it’s always comforted me when i get stressed so maybe they could offer the same to you, too.”

you grow conscious when fred’s all silent, though he’s smiling, you can’t quite capture what he’s thinking. it makes you press your lips together and lightly pat on his arm around your waist, chuckling awkwardly.

“i told you it was silly,”

he shakes his head and presses a kiss to your shoulder, “that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me.”

“you’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

“certainly am not... though, i can if you’d like.”

at fred’s hidden innuendo, it makes you gasp, “freddie!”

“what? do the plants have eyes?”

“freddie, they’re plants, not animals.”

“guess we won’t have a problem then.”

((fred notices you’ve disappeared into his office for a few good minutes, so he’s decided to come check on you. he reaches his office and looms by the door, peeking through the crack to see you placing–what he assumes to be cleaned plants–onto his table with a small smile.

then he overhears: “grow up to be strong and healthy, okay? give freddie and good ol’ george blooming business.” he tries not to laugh, but hearing your laugh to your own childishness almost gets him to crack. “that’s silly. but i mean it, okay? they’ve worked so hard, and you will too, to grow.”

just as you gently pat the leaves and move to stand up straight, your head lifts to the door to see... “h-how long have you been standing there?”

fred smirks. “enough to hear you sweet talking to the plants instead of me.”

“...i hear talking kindly to your plants will help them grow.”

fred doesn’t know why, but for some reason fred imagines that one day, you’ll be talking kindly to the children the both of you could potentially share. it makes his heart full just thinking about it, even though he knows his silence is making you anxious, mind jumping to conclusions.

at his silence, and the way his cheeks start to blush at the thought of starting a family with you, it was your turn to get curious.

“what’re you thinking about, freddie?”

he clears his throat, blinking a couple of times to return to being in this reality with you. he takes a step back, shaking his head, “n-nothing. i’ll leave you be now.”

“wait! i wanna know, i wanna know!”

fred makes a bolt for it.))

#fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fics #harry potter #harry potter fics

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slytherins-heir · 2 months

Note

smash, marry, kill; Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter

easy

marry sirius smash lupin kill james

#the maruaders fic #the marauders #harry potter fics #harry potter x reader #harry potter au #hp fics #malfoy fics #ron weasly fics #hermione fics #golden trio fics #hp marauders #moony x reader #padfoot x reader #slytherin boys x reader #sebastian sallow fics #hogwarts legacy au

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broomsticks · 1 year

Text

intro wolfstar fic recs (fluffy/light angst)

an off-the-top-of-my-head intro to wolfstar reclist for a request on the wolfstar discord. criteria: requestee reads drarry, fluffy to light angst, "maybe classic marauders era for a taste of what the fic is typically like?" i went for (a) present-day active authors and (b) 2017ish "modern-day classics," <50k, mostly canon-setting.

(a) present-day active authors:

Upstairs, Downstairs by @squidgilator (5k, G): great little "intro" fic to one of my favorite hogwarts era pining/get-together authors, "In which Hogwarts traps Sirius and Remus on an endless staircase to make them talk to each other."

Cooler Than Frogs by Penknife (4k, T) & Not In Front Of the Dog! by Engie_Ivy (2k, T) are similar uniquely wolfstar/HP-magic adorable get-togethers.

Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy…Best Friend, Brother, Roommate, Lie by @femme--de--lettres (9k, T): muggle au, Hope Lupin keeps count of how many attempts it takes her son to finally admit that he's in love with his best friend. if you like this, author has two longfic WIPs (a spy AU and a law school AU with terrific rep that's very wonderfully and honestly done!)

on the issue of fever and delight by aeridi0nis (12k, T). post-prank fic, prangst get-together is one of the most classsiicccc wolfstar tropes ever. stellar characterization & just magical prose: "After the initial shock, Sirius closes his mouth. Clears his throat. He wears repentance poorly, as all former princes do; his spine seems reluctant to bend that way, so all he can scrounge up is a pathetic imitation of every other guilty person he’s ever witnessed. It’s perhaps the first time that Remus has seen him fall short in something."

by the same author, in lieu of beaujolais (18k, M) -- another brilliant post-hogwarts first war era muggle london flat-sharing & and then they were roommates/ oh my god they were roommates get-together that has lots of similar feels as 2015ish era ‘classic’ wolfstar.

(b) 2017ish "modern-day classics"

June, and Other Natural Disasters by montparnasse (5k, T) "sirius/remus, summer, huge gay crush". montparnasse is an absolutely classic 2015-2018ish era wolfstar writer with a Certain Writing Style and you either love it or you don't, & if you love this relatively short one, literally everything else in their catalogue are must-reads.

few more M-rated under read more

The things that lurk in the dark by TheDivineComedian (5k, M). MWPP era, sixth year. There's something terrifying in the dungeons. late enough to be 'classic' (tbh any A/N that uses the term mwpp instead of marauders era is straight away a 'classic'). no but seriously this has all the defining features of a classic wolfstar fic to me: strong characterizations of all four marauders, lovely Shenanigans vibe / they're Up To No Good, there's Trauma but make it funny, overall just a great blend of light and angst.

The Active Reader by veeagainst (7k, M). When a craze for pulpy romance novels about Dark Creatures starts in Gryffindor, Sirius reads one about a werewolf -- and decides to write a better one. hilarious, intellectual, and hot; who says you can't have it all! very engaging!!

The Weather Inside by earlybloomingparentheses (43k, M). a classic canon-setting 'falling in love during the first war' story, ensemble fic with background jily. plausibly canon compliant, fic ends happily.

that’s the art of getting by by sarewolf (40k, M). "angst with a happy ending" perfectly describes this fic, one of the best remus/wolfstar raises harry especially for its length / <50k fic, and an absolute modern-day classic (read: Gaerfinn will ban me if i don't rec this)

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic recs #harry potter fanfiction #hp fics #fic rec list

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popczykpisarz · 24 days

Text

I need a drarry fic where Harry is hot as hell. I beg recs 🙏🙏🙏

#drarry #ao3 fanfics #drarry content #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry x draco #harry potter fanfiction #auror harry #healer draco #ao3 #hp ships #hp fics #hp universe

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weasley-wizard-writes · 1 year

Text

Beautiful Ruiner, Damn My Ashes

George Weasley x Reader Smut 18+

A standalone fic from the We Stood In the Sun (Before It Exploded) series.

Genre: Smut, Angst(?)

Content Warnings:

NSFW

Grief

Word Count: 1,296

He panted heavily, his chest heaving as he groaned out in both anguish and pleasure, the feeling of your nails raking down his back somehow splintering him and bringing him to life all at once.

God, you were ruinous.

The way you looked up at him when he touched you like this, filled you like this, it was addictive, life altering, something he could not live with nor without.

You would be the end of him,

And oh what a cruel and beautiful fate that would be.

The crescents of your nails stamped permanently into his skin, your voice the last thing to play before his ears, and your body beneath his the final thing his eyes would ever see,

How could he dare to argue with such a lecherous end to his life? Such a fruitful lust, as long as it culminated in him seeing the stars that played behind your eyelids when you finally came undone for him.

So beautiful,

So heartbreaking,

So necessary,

So incredibly ruinous in Every. Single. Way.

The end of all ends,

The beginning of all beginnings,

Your body, your pleasure, you.

He felt guilt begin to build in his chest as he watched you, brushed the hair out of your face and behind your ear as you whimpered pitifully beneath his body, helpless to his never ending barrage of fulfilling thrusts as he penetrated you to the hilt

over and

over

and

over

again.

He growled harshly at his own uncontrollable thoughts,

His own uncontrollable needs,

And quickly took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, watching as you opened your eyes to meet his familiar, cold gaze.

But he was so struck at what he saw within those eyes that his hip-bruising voracity waned, and his own orbs widened in surprise,

There was hope there, pride, joy, and something else he could not put his finger on,

Or rather, something that he did not want to put his finger on,

But, no matter,

They were rather occupied at the moment anyhow.

But those eyes,

So beautiful, so shiny even in the dimmed light of his bedroom, where only the dying bulb of his bedside lamp and the moon could light his path to salvation,

(to you).

He was awestruck.

There was silence in his mind for a few moments, as he stared down at your body, at the place where the two of you were connected as one, despite everything he had done, and everything that he had not.

But then, noting his slowed thrusts and sudden lack of urgency, you mewled for him in a way that made his mind race, those claws of yours moving from his back to his hips to pull and scratch at them, causing them to stutter before speeding up once more.

Surely you would kill him like this, oh beautiful ruiner, damn far more than his soul, but even his ashes to Hell for the thoughts you caused him to have.

He was ruined for anyone save for this woman who laid before him, that was for certain.

And all of his feelings for you, the hatred, the annoyance, the fondness, the admiration, and that one other thing he had seen in your eyes...

They made it so hard to focus, so hard to forget, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else he was doing this for if not that.

Why was he buried within you, gasping for air, pressing his sweaty forehead against your own and almost smiling, if not to forget?

He could not bring himself to answer the question, but he could bring himself to push it away, and drown himself in you,

And so he did.

George began to thrust his hips into yours even harder, his finger tips digging into your ass and hips with a bruising force as he lifted you towards him for better access, desperate to be connected, and desperate to be whole again.

You gave him all that he could ask for and more, and he hissed when he felt you press closer, your ankles locking around his hips as you squeezed your thighs tighter to his body, your head falling back in what he prayed was bliss.

You were a perfect sight to behold, such beautiful damnation, as if you were made solely for his eyes to see.

Suddenly,

Cursing, gasping, growling, George came deep inside of you, his hands shaky as he lowered you to the bed completely, slowly severing the connection between your bodies.

It was cold all alone, so cold when he couldn’t feel you, that he had half a mind to bury himself inside your heat once more, and just forget about the outside world.

But before he could, you spoke, confusion in your voice as you raised your hand to his face to brush some of his over-grown ginger locks away from his eyes.

“George?”

You asked softly, and your voice made him shiver far more than the coldness of this lonely world outside of you ever could.

“Yes?”

He replied quietly, as if afraid he would frighten you away if he spoke too loudly.

“Why wont you kiss me again?”

George felt his eyes widen at your words, and they swept over your form slowly as his mouth began to form a response,

“I can’t, it wasn’t fair when I did before. It wasn’t real, it was just hungry, and cruel, and I won’t do that to you again. I’m not a monster, Y/n. I’m not.”

His words were spoken more to reassure himself than you, and he knew that, but even so he looked towards you once more to see your reaction, and the sorrow and everything else, unchanged from before, that could be found within your eyes was very nearly too much for him to bear.

Especially that unnamed emotion, the one that made his stomach clench in fear.

You raised your fingers, adept and nimble, familiar and haunting, to his face once more, this time framing his cheek and stroking it gently with your thumb as you spoke, sympathy so evident within your tone that it should’ve made George angry,

But this time it only hurt.

“Oh but George,”

You murmured, and he panicked as your familiarity started to fade, and that emotion he could not, would not, name, began to bleed away from your gaze,

“If that’s true, then why are you here?”

Ice cold fear clutched at George’s chest as your body beneath him vanished, your warmth replaced with an oh so familiar nothingness that made him want to weep for not just what he had lost, but for what he had never even had the opportunity to lose in the first place.

He was so lost in the darkness, with nothing and no one there, and he called out your name for what felt like hours with absolutely no response but his own voice echoing back at him, reminding him of his sins, and his atrocities born from grief.

He awoke in his bed gasping for air, his heart pounding in his chest as he sat up quickly, looking around for someone in his darkened bedroom, the only light being that of the moon, which poured in past his open curtains.

Fred was not there,

You were not there,

He was completely alone, and the world was cold again, outside of you.

And there was nothing to do now but lay awake and remember your warmth while ignoring that feeling of guilt as it grew stronger and stronger inside of him, because he knew

He would never find that emotion in your eyes anywhere outside of his dreams,

And you were not his to dream of in the first place.

“Beautiful ruiner, what have you done to me?”

MASTERLIST

Here is where I keep my tag lists, whether they’re permanent or just for a specific series or character. If you would like to be added to my taglist let me know and I’ll add you :)

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ashesandhackles · 1 year

Text

Fic recs

Other Women and of Purer Blood by @saintsenara

Summary: Narcissa is adrift, rattling around Malfoy Manor, when an equally lonely man comes into her lonely life.

Thoughts: I have been wanting a story that contextualises the sexual charge and familiarity we see between Snape and Narcissa in Spinner's End for ages (canon compliant, that is) and this story is a lovely backstory to that. It also captures Snape in transition: Snape still ironing out his northern accent, how his movements are still spider-like. He is in the process of becoming the adult Snape we see in canon: whose speeches are a performance, and how he irons out the awkwardness of his movements in adulthood.

Excerpt:

Snape looks completely wrong in the flowery bower where Dobby has set out tea. His sallow awkwardness seems to repel the summer, even though Narcissa suspects he must be baking in his layers of shabby black robes.

He doesn’t have the fine manners of the sort of person who normally comes to tea with the Malfoys. He eats quickly, and slurps his tea, and looks at the cakes with the greedy eyes of a boy who isn’t used to treats. Lucius would be disgusted, to have a greasy half-blood at his table spraying crumbs everywhere. She imagines the expression of horrified confusion on his pointy face and giggles.

Snape immediately goes scarlet and puts down his tea-cup.

In Infinite Remorse of Soul by @perverse-idyll

Summary: Albus Dumbledore never makes the same mistake twice. Certainly not in love.

Thoughts: My very first Snumbledore, which is a frightening meditation on the very vast power dynamics between Snape and Dumbledore from the hilltop scene in Deathly Hallows and expanding the very personal reaction Dumbledore had towards the wayward young Death Eater. Perverse Idyll is among the best writers in the fandom, brimming with words and fantastic imagery that just stays with you.

Excerpt:

"My boy," Albus says almost kindly, because kindness is something that mystifies his young servant. Severus' eyes dart upwards, apprehensive, accusing, and Albus can see the darkness inside the boy clawing to reach him. Guilt calling to guilt.

The moment quivers and thins until he judges that Severus has had enough and is about to rebel. A harsh rasp draws his attention. He looks down at the bruised, blackened fingernail scraping across stone.

"My boy," he sighs. "You never fail to disgust me."

The ritual word strikes Severus down. His obstinate body shrinks, wings of hair flapping forward to shut his scowling face from view.

To Build A Home by @mblematic

Summary: 1978-1981: Sirius stumbles on something in the woods, Sirius and Remus stumble into each other, everyone stumbles into the war.

Thoughts: First War hijinks, dysfunctional Wolfstar - I was fed! I cannot rave enough about the gorgeous, subtle writing of relationships (the author really captures this raw, visceral vulnerability between two friends who are attracted to each other and how it explodes in heightened tension of war) and there is some fantastic world building and mirroring. Excerpt: Later, Sirius would remember almost everything from this night with crystal clarity except the sky, which in reality was clouded but in his memory would be open, star-studded, expansive and unknowable as the future. He’d remember, correctly, that the wolf was different than it had been at Hogwarts. He’d remember the restless, brutal, snarling fury, all of it undercut with a fear so intense it had its own meaty weight. The night took Sirius by surprise and he spent the whole long stretch of it trying to put himself back on track, trying to reacquaint himself with the wolf, and trying to convince them both that they remembered each other. At one point he found himself literally between Remus’ jaws, helpless and pliant, mewling like a supplicant. This, too, he would remember for the rest of his life.

Second Life by Cassandra, nwhiker Summary: What happens when two men are given a second chance.

Thoughts: I finally got around to reading one of the most recommended Snirius fics out there. Beautiful, understated, deeply emotional - the authors take you on a journey with the two of them post war. It also feels....old?? As in, the kind of perspective this fic has is the perspective of someone in late 30s (which both Snape and Sirius are in this fic, post war). There is a fragile, "who else will understand what our generation went through?" running through the vein of this fic.

Excerpt:

It was like walking into a tiny garden in the tropics, and he was reminded of some of the places he'd visited while on the run after his escape from Azkaban. There were hundreds of plants, most of them unfamiliar, and a large table was filled with orchids. There was a tree, which turned out to be a frangipani, its white flowers soft and sweet. A delicate white flower with an exquisite fragrance that Snape said was bouvardia. Along one wall were plants Sirius recognised from Potions classes, wolfsbane and asphodel, wormwood and sopohorous, a shrivelfig tree, and others he'd seen but didn't know the names of.

"I'm not supposed to have them," Snape said.

Sirius turned to him. Snape was staring down an orchid, brushing planting mix from the edge of its pot.

Al Aaraaf by eldritcher

Summary: There is a place between heaven and hell.

Thoughts: An unsettling, poetic horror fic featuring a grieving Walburga Black. The whole fic is structured like a poem, with rhythm and repetition and metaphor shining through.

Excerpt:

He had her face. He had her scowl. He had her loathsome, loathing heart that mourned and loved. Hell dwelled in him, as a warm and heartful thing calved of mother.

The last of earth's make she held was son. His hands were placed in prayerful clasp over her belly.

The lamb in her was of Tartary, born of son fed and killed with milk and honey, birthed of widow's mourning.

"It is all right," Sirius said, and held her to him as if she weren't damned.

Runaway Boys by Delphi

Summary: Severus dreams of pirates, and Lily closes the nursery window. Thoughts: I'm not sure if I have recommended this fic before, but I am recommending it again, just in case. This is a wonderfully strange coming of age, a tale of puberty told in dreams/ fantasies featuring Snape and Captain Hook. Excerpt:

"Severus S—" He cuts himself off and then tentatively amends: "Prince. Severus Prince."

It's a better name, he's decided. His new friends at school know the Princes, but they've never heard of any Snapes.

"That is a fine name, Mr. Prince," the man says. "As for me, I am Captain James Hook."

A large hand extends into the branches, and after a moment, Severus carefully leans down and shakes it.

"Pleased to meet you," Severus says.

"Are those friends of yours?" the captain asks, nodding towards the neighbouring island, where the boys are now riding wild ponies bareback, jousting with each other using lances made of hollow reeds.

Severus shrugs. Of course, he thinks, the man would rather know them.

Note: Please check the pairings and tags in each of these fics and keep in mind your own triggers :)

#hp fic recs #hp fics #since i am in my reading phase #largely snape-centric recs #but some other content also sneaks through #severus snape #narcissa malfoy #snarcissa #snumbledore #snirius #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #walburga black #alastor moody

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